Wild goose chase

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

A ropey old nights sleep invited me to have a long lie-in then get up for a nap but the morning was more than fulfilling its promise and I'd promised myself a walk along the Ribble Estuary. The plan was: get a train up to Preston, get the 2A bus to Longton Brickcroft, mooch around there for twenty-five minutes (which is better than standing at the bus stop outside Preston Station for half an hour), pick up the number 2 to Hundred End Lane and walk up onto Banks Marsh for a walk round into Banks, getting a bus into Southport and thence home. And do you know what? The plan worked as designed for once. Except the bit where I left a drink and something to eat on the stairs in the hall so I wouldn't forget them.

Longton Brickcroft

I got off the 2A at Longton in brilliant Spring weather and felt distinctly overdressed. There weren't many ducks in evidence on the South pool at Longton Brickcroft, the mallards being outnumbered by the tufted ducks. 

Grey squirrel, Longton Brickcroft

Robin, Longton Brickcroft

There was a riot of song about: chaffinches, robins, coal tits, great tits and wrens managing to drown out a song thrush down the lane. The songbirds were very active, only the squirrels sat still and posed for the camera. I pushed my luck with the bus timetable and had a quick nosy at the North pool where little egrets were sitting in trees and a crowd of mallards outnumbered the tufties.

Little egret, Longton Brickcroft

Arriving at Hundred End Lane I crossed the road, entered the field and hit an obstacle. The sheep had been grazing on the sides of the bund that runs over to the marsh. On seeing me they took to the high ground. As they walked along I walked slowly behind them for five minutes to give them the chance to get ahead and scatter. In the end the matriarch of the flock, which stayed at the back to keep an eye on me, decided to drop down to the side out of my way. I stood still while she called at them and they did as they were told and followed her, letting me pass. All the while this was going on we were being tracked by magpies and a singing chaffinch while a flock of jackdaws was keeping a hundred yards ahead of the flock on the bund for reasons I couldn't fathom.

The ladies

Walking down I scanned the fields to see what was about. Every distant possible covey of partridges was the remnant of a row of red cabbages, every presumed carrier bag a little egret. A flock of teal and wigeon flew from the pond at the end of the bund. Pairs of mallards and oystercatchers circled round until they'd satisfied themselves I was heading for the marsh, not the pond. 

Approaching the bund at Banks Marsh

Climbing up onto the big bund separating the fields from the marsh the first bird I saw was a marsh harrier quartering the mid distant marsh to the consternation of lapwings and wigeon. It lazily floated upstream to upset some more lapwings before drifting out of sight. A few shelducks and mallards loafed and dozed on the marsh near the bund. Beyond the fence, on the marsh proper, were thousands of pink-footed geese.

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

The familiar feelings of panic and exhalation ran through me. If there was any goose out there that wasn't a pink-footed goose how would I find it? The answer, simply, was that I probably wouldn't and I'd just have to take it on the chin. All I could do was scan the thousand or so within identifiable range and just enjoy the spectacle of the rest. And if all I was going to see today was thousands upon thousands of pink-footed geese that was a pretty splendid thing in and of itself.

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

As I walked along skylarks rose and sang from the foot of the bund and every so often a meadow pipit or linnets would pass by. Every so often there'd be a stretch of marsh without any geese where curlews and redshanks foraged with the shelducks and lapwings. A pair of mute swans could be seen in one pool, a ruff with a patchy white head on one of the others. Nearly all the gulls were black-headed and there weren't many of those. There was a mass panic of teal and wigeon as a great black-back did a slow sweep over. Every so often out on the estuary a cloud of birds would rise and fall as a light aircraft passed noisily high overhead. These weren't murmurations of starlings or waders, they were geese.

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pairs of oystercatchers called from the inland side of the field. Here and there mallards and moorhens foraged in the pools amongst the cabbages and a buzzard called noisily as it did a circuit of a plantation of trees.

As I approached the point where the end of Marsh Road meets the bund there were more pools on the marsh and more shelducks, mallards and redshanks. A greenshank on one of the pools was a nice surprise. Approaching the big pool I kept an eye out for the spoonbill that's been seen here on and off all Winter and had no luck. There were a couple of birdwatchers with telescopes by the rise onto the bund and I let on to them, they were the first people I'd seen since I got off the bus. They'd found the spoonbill, far out on the marsh and hadn't been completely sure what they were looking at until it took its beak out of its back feathers. So that was okay then, I could dip the spoonbill with a clear conscience, I hadn't been staring at it and not seeing it.

I wished them luck and carried on with my walk. A few clouds rolled in and the fresh breeze picked up a bit and I put my coat back on, much to the disgust of a little egret feeding on a nearby pool which croaked at me then went back to its shrimping. A Cetti's warbler sang from the reeds in the drain inland of the bund and I had no more luck seeing it than the wren singing in the rank vegetation on its bank. A lot of squawking announced the arrival of two black-headed gulls escorting a ring-tail hen harrier through the marsh and away.

Hen harrier and pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

A few black-tailed godwits joined the curlews, teal and redshanks in the pools and there were considerably more pink-feet out on the marsh. Tens of thousands more.

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

For the next quarter of an hour I was overwhelmed by the sight and sound of tens of thousands of pink-footed geese. The light aircraft had come over again and a hundred ton or more of disgruntled goose took flight. Wave upon wave of them, joined by more coming in from upriver as the plane passed over. Thousands flew low overhead as they fled inland only to circle back and over and onto the marsh. Clouds of geese billowed over the marsh, dipping down, landing and rising again as the plane made a comeback. I don't have the words or pictures to do any of this justice, it was a totally immersive experience and utterly magical.

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

The plane moved on, the geese calmed down and so did I. They were still fidgety though, they probably have itchy wings getting ready for the Spring migration. 

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

I was on the last leg of the walk and glad of it, too, I was starting to feel the effects of the lack of sleep and only having had the one cup of tea. There were a few Canada geese amongst the thousands of pink-feet on the marsh but I couldn't see any sign of the regular Todd's Canada goose which is back for its umpteenth Winter. Nor could I turn any of the pink-feet into bean geese or white-fronts, which would have been gilding the lily rather.

Self-portrait with Banks Marsh